


Ploughing Elves

by LadyLustful



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Foe Yay, M/M, Other, Smoking, Smut, future character death mentioned, gen - Freeform, just mentioned though, modern!AU, probably not all in the same fics though, so fluff and smut and gen and crack and angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4261629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLustful/pseuds/LadyLustful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iorveth and Roche, in any situation my less than perfectly sane mind comes up with - porn, fluff, angst, almost always crack.<br/>Content by chapters:<br/>1. Modern!AU, smoking after sex, fluff.<br/>2. Iorveth thinks about Roche dying. Gen-ish. Tiny bit of angst only.<br/>3. Roche thinks about undressing Iorveth.<br/>4. Flirting over a meal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [invisible_cities](https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_cities/gifts), [PaintedLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedLady/gifts).



It's hot. Hot enough that covering oneself even with a thin cotton bedsheet sounds like a horrible idea. Hot enough for Iorveth to decide against cuddling and content himself with lying next to Roche, a thin layer of hot, humid, immobile air between sweaty skin and sweaty skin.

Roche always craves a smoke after sex. Now, too, he reaches into the drawer of the bedside table, pulls out a lighter and a packet of cigarettes, three-quarters full. He takes one out, lights it, and takes a draw, inhaling the smoke with apparent relish, holding it in for a long time, closing his eyes from the pleasure. Iorveth takes advantage of the moment to steal the cigarette from between his fingers, stick it in his own mouth, tasting Roche's spit on the filter.

\- Hey, you dick - growls Roche, without real anger. - That's my fag. You wanna smoke, go get your own.

\- Shh, my pretty.

Vernon Roche hardly conforms to the conventional idea of prettiness, tall and muscular and hairy and covered with scars and tattoos. Still, Iorveth swears that the nickname fits.

\- I'll make it up to you, I promise. - he kisses Roche on the mouth, just a quick peck, lips barely touching lips.

But he gives the cigarette back.


	2. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Iorveth ponders the mortality of humans. Roche's, to be specific.

Dhoine lives are short.   
Iorveth doesn't know Roche's exact age - Roche himself isn't sure when he was born - but, judging from how the human's hair turns gray at the temples, he has maybe two or three decades left before he dies of old age.  
Iorveth doesn't really mind - after all, he himself could be captured and hanged any day.


	3. Layers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roche thinks about undressing Iorveth. Somewhat porny, though the sex is only mentioned.

Iorveth's clothes, not unlike the elf himself, consists of layers upon layers.   
Roche sometimes finds it frustrating, when they are in a hurry and he can't get to the elf's arse or prick fast enough, sometimes arousing, when every opened buckle or untied lacing is a small victory, rewarded with the sight of naked skin, the oportunity to kiss, lick and bite.   
But even free from the last layer of cloth - even incoherent with pleasure, with his prick down Roche's throat - the elf is never truly naked - hidden behing the tattooed leaves that cover him from neck and collarbones to the sharp points of his hipbones.


	4. Something in Your Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roche gives Iorveth some food.  
> Fluffy, and a bit of dirty innuendo.

\- Iorveth? When was the last time you ate something?  
Iorveth tears his eyes away from the bowl of stew in Roche's hands to answer him.  
\- I'm... not sure - the elf replies, truthfully - he can't remember the last proper meal he had.  
\- Well you can finish this, if you want to. Go on, eat, elf. It wouldn't do for you to pass out in the middle of a fight. - The human adds, placing the still mostly - full bowl in Iorveth's hands.  
Iorveth finds it strangely, absurdly, touching - they have fought side by side and they have fucked, but only now does it occur to him that the other man may actually care about him.  
\- Thank you - the elf replies, as wary as he is genuinely grateful.  
\- No problem. Besides, I like you with my meat in your mouth.  
Bloody Dhoine, thinks Iorveth, more amused than annoyed, nothing but sex on their mind.


End file.
